


Gnossienne: No.1

by redexray



Series: Gnossiennes [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Also I wrote 30k words but it doesn’t show in the words count, Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Leliana deserves happiness, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Useless Lesbians, so i wrote about it, still bitter they didn’t let me romance my woman, what the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redexray/pseuds/redexray
Summary: For Evelyn, it all began when the spymaster swept her off her feet. Literally.





	Gnossienne: No.1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still not over the fact that Leliana wasn’t a romance option in Inquisition.  
How can you not fall for the inner depth, the self-doubts and the unhealthy tendency to blame no one but herself of this lost woman?  
I adore how they developed her, shown us that yes, ten years had passed, and yes, she grew during that time and left behind her almost-too-naive methods in order to become a practical and reflective woman.  
I could go on for hours but I doubt you came here to read my thoughts about why Leliana is one of the best characters in the DA’s universe.  
Still, I must warn you that English is not my first language, so there may be some errors. Feel free to comment on that.  
Hope you enjoy.

For Evelyn, it all began when the spymaster swept her off her feet. Literally.

During an expedition in the Hinterlands the mage was caught off guard in a fight. An assassin creeped out of nowhere and in the next moment she was knock into the ground with the end of a weapon, a men looming over her form with a shining dagger in his hand. He was aiming to kill her and Evelyn was too confused for casting a spell to protect herself. If it wasn’t for the arrow that Varric shot into his chest a second later, Evelyn knew she would be dead; her abilities as an elementarist had been useless in that situation and it scared her, how she couldn’t rely just on her magic like she thought. When they returned at Haven, she searched for the only rogue advisor she had because she wanted to learn her way with a swift blade. 

“I just want to acquire the basics, to defend myself. Sera and Varric already told me that they cannot fight with daggers even if their life depended on it and I know that you prefer the bow too, but I was wondering if you could help me nonetheless.” Evelyn asked, shoulders tense and hands clasped behind her back, ready for the bitter blow of rejection. It wasn’t like she was scared of the woman before her, but she was intimidating and she still remembered vividly the brief discussion they had regarding what to do with one of her agents - the hard look she had thrown her at the time. Yet, the mage had watched how her advisor moved during the days and nights in Haven, the incredible dexterity of a skilled rogue spilling into her every move. So she waited interminably seconds after her question, hoped, and when the redhead simply glanced at her and accepted her request, she visibly relaxed.

“Meet me near the trebuchets after dinner, Herald.” The woman had said, returning then to read the report in her hands, and so, later, Evelyn did as she was told. 

/

When she arrived the spymaster was already there, staring at the green cracks in the sky with a frown on her face. They began at once, and before she knew Evelyn had a small dagger trusted in her hand, a weight that almost felt foreign there. The redhead explained what she assumed were the basic of a parry and a dodge, and the sharp gaze she gave Evelyn at the end of every phrase fascinated the younger woman. She seemed to search through her, almost as if she could read her mind to verify that she understood everything. The mage could only nod at first because, honestly, it was a little overwhelming, learning how to use your body when you spent all your life training only your mind, but her friends in the tower always said that she was a fast learner and so she adapted quickly, feet and arms moving like she was being shown, adjusting and memorizing that fluid dance, although less gracefully than her teacher. They were easy steps, baby steps, but she felt empowered nonetheless.

They stopped shortly after, Evelyn assumed because the other woman noticed how she was slightly out of breath, so she her sent a grateful look, whipping her sweaty forehead. 

“Thank you again for agreeing to this, spymaster.” The mage breathed, chest still heaving but in a more subtle way. It should be embarrassing, how badly she was out of shape, but with only them there she couldn’t care less. 

The redhead was looking at her with something like amusement on her feature, a grin barely gracing on her lips. 

“Of course. However, do not thank me yet Herald. This is nothing but the prelude of our training.” She responded before taking a few steps back, the playfulness gone from her features. “You should able to defend yourself in every situation. If this is not the case then we must prepare you.” The spymaster folded her own dagger in a cover before throwing one at her too, the black leather almost slipping from Evelyn’s fingers after she caught it.

“You may keep it.” The hooded woman merely said after she received a curious look from the elementarist. 

“For now, though, put it away. We will practice without one first.” 

Evelyn nodded, putting away the shiny blade and clasping it on her belt. She felt unbelievably at ease, with that new object weighting on her hip, and tried to thank the redhead for it, but the woman gave an “Attack me now.” that left her quite dumbstruck. 

“Come again?” She asked, taken aback, almost feeling her eyebrows touching her hairline from the surprise.

“Before practicing in a duel with a blade I must teach you how to defend yourself without one. There will be time for using the moves I have shown you today, but we should do it after you repeated them alone for a while. I trust you will execute them perfectly the next time.” The spymaster explained. And again, Evelyn could only nod, too astonished by the fact that there would be another encounter between the two of them.

She stood still, watching her opponent, like always when she was in a fight. Her magic began to buzz in her head, as if it was telling her that it was ready to fight, should she need it. She forced herself to tone it down, wanting to do her attack with only her body. When she received a nod from the woman before her, she sprinted forward. Surprise was on the redhead face for a single moment, but when the mage grabbed her shoulders, gloved hands broke that hold and a foot connected with both of the Herald‘s ankles in a swift motion.

Evelyn sensed the cold ground even before she reached it. She closed her eyes, and when the inevitable impact happed, let out a groan. A moment passed - the light snow falling on her flushed face and a dull ache developing in the back of her skull were the only things she felt.

“When I said ‘attack me’ I meant slowly, so I could have show you how to block the blow.” 

Evelyn opened her eyes then, shallowing another groan. The other woman was above her - red hair framing a delicate jaw and almost catching in blue eyes, a gaze full of mirth cracked with small lines at the edges - and for a moment she could only stare. 

“Couldn’t you, like, stop me?” The mage asked with no real bite, still unable to look away.

“I did.” The rogue was grinning then - pink lips stretching widely, simple dimples showing in her cheeks - and it was only then that Evelyn realized how stunningly beautiful the spymaster was. But the snow was starting to melt below her and soaking her hair so she propped herself up on her elbows, grimacing slightly. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I apologize, but you are really fast. Incredibly so.” The redhead responded. “I was pleasantly caught off guard. We should work on that, see if we can transform it into dexterity.”

She offered her a gloved hand and Evelyn stared at it again for a moment, feeling an unexpected tug, warmth, something stirring in her chest.

She accepted the hand and got up before they resumed her training.

/

From there, they only met a handful of other times, both their schedules too stuffed to even think about meeting more. It was still just training, no conversations other than the instructions that the hooded woman gave her, but in a strange way they were all pleasant encounters for the young mage. Sometimes Evelyn would catch herself observing for too long gloved fingers or blue eyes, but she always refocused on absorbing every word and move shown, until one day the spymaster simply said that her work was done. 

“You have mastered what I have taught you at an incredible speed. You should be able to defend yourself now.” She had said, and Evelyn should be proud at how she managed to archive her goal in so little time, but all she could feel was a sour taste in her mouth, almost like disappointment. The other woman nodded at her before walking back toward the camp, and she could just watch her walk away, the falling snow covering quickly her steps. 

They didn’t talk much after that due to the fact that the mage was always in the Hinterlands, or the Fallow Mire, or whatever place needed her help with demons, undeads and so on. The brief times that she stayed at Haven where spent discussing reports with all of the advisors around the War Table and planning the next move - how to gain influence, recruits more soldiers for their cause, help the newborn Inquisition - and Evelyn almost (_definitely_) missed her encounters with the spymaster.

/

On one day where Evelyn returned from the Wounded Coast with a few agents behind, Josephine approached at the gates. The ambassador said that they had gained enough influence for an audience with the mages at Redcliffe and so she turned on her heels and marched toward the village, Cassandra, Bull and Varric following closely.

When she arrived at the meeting place she didn’t expect to find her fellow mages - women, children and men alike - bound to a Tevinter and she certainly didn’t expect to fight alongside one in a chantry filled with demons. Dorian Pavus, as he introduced himself, followed them back to Haven. After a few hours of riding he approached her, trotting with his horse beside hers. 

“So, you are quite the little crew, are you not?” He asked with a bit of an accent, huffing out a breath and tugging the blanked she gave him closer.

“There are more of us in Haven. You shall see soon enough.” She responded, noticing how they should reach to the village at any moment.

“Are they as charming as your friends back there?” Dorian looked behind them. 

Evelyn glanced too in the direction of her companions. Bull and Cassandra were watching them intently, their hands ready to unleash the weapons they carried while in the meantime Varric was counting his remaining arrows. The young woman scoffed, shaking her head before looking at the man with a somewhat apologetic look.

“They are just cautious. In times like these, you may never know.” She said, refocusing on the iced path ahead. The mage beside her didn’t seem like a treat to their cause - just incredibly arrogant and self centered - and he lacked the vicious vein of cruelty that everyone expected from a Tevinter. The only thing that stroke her as odd was his peculiar mustache. 

Dorian studied Evelyn for a few minutes.

“You are not a blood mage, are you?” He asked then, and the young woman chucked.

“No, not that I am aware.” She mused, sending a questioning look at the Tevinter.

“I noticed you always hold on to the dagger on your belt, so I assumed. Although I suppose the Right Hand back there wouldn’t have left you here breathing if you were.” 

He looked at his nails then, so polished and perfectly trimmed, and Evelyn almost felt self conscious about her own.

“Shiny pretty thing by the way.” The man said, glancing again at the weapon.

“It is a gift. I mean, sort of?” Evelyn pondered because she truly didn’t know what to think of it. Was it gift? Was she supposed to turn it back to the spymaster now that they didn’t meet anymore? She almost rolled her eyes at the silliness of her questions. It wasn’t like it mattered something.

The younger mage unclasped the dagger from its cover and offered it to Dorian, giving him a change to study the blade that seemed to have piqued his interest. The Tevinter gently grabbed its handle, his eyebrows furrowing and uplifting as he turned the weapons in his hands a few times. 

“How curious.” He whispered to himself, offering the dagger for Evelyn to take again.

Evelyn wished to question him about what was curious - and why was he giving her that odd look - but a sentinel of the Inquisition came toward them with a report in hand as soon as they reached Haven and she knew she wouldn’t have the change to. 

She retook her weapon and accepted the report with a smile before galloping toward the gates.

/

After a meeting with the advisors and the futile attempt of making her help the templars instead made by Cullen, they agreed to help the mages. 

Nothing could prepare Evelyn for what she faced. 

The unsettling feeling of time travel twisting her guts was nothing compared to the realization of how Thedas could become if she failed to stop that madness. 

When Dorian and Evelyn found their companions - her friends, reduced into nothing but twisted bodies, red in the hollow pits of their eyes - she almost lost it, launching toward the bars of Fiona’s cell and calling her out for her damn idiocy. 

“How could you even think of agreeing, of willingly submitting all of them, all of _us, _into fucking slavery.” Evelyn accused the elf mage - her grip on the bars knuckle white, the hatred she felt for the woman who was supposed to protect mages, not harm them, over spilling into her every venomous word. She knew that it was just a part of why she felt so much anger. The though about how none of this would have happened if the elf just said no stuck into her head like a mocking reminder.

Fiona just looked at the angry mage with a empty expression, back pressed so far in the red lyrium coming out of the wall that Evelyn thought they became one. 

“Desperate times calls for desperate measure.”

And maybe it was for how the woman responded, so lifelessly, that Evelyn’s anger dissipated. 

Their party navigated that damned castle for a while, Evelyn stomach twisting every time she saw a piece of red lyrium, before she heard a pained scream and bolted into action. Barging into the room where the grunts and screams came from, she saw a woman chained to the roof, a men before her with a sharp blade at her throat. The prisoner was quick to use the fleeting moment of distraction to kill her torturer - a glimpse of red hair moving in the shadows - and Evelyn understood. She freed the spymaster and help her stand, their hold on each other arms strong, tight, desperate, the disbelief apparent on both of their faces. Dorian spoke then and just like that the woman changed, a hard look and a clasped jaw and she was gone, searching for a bow in a nearby trunk. It wasn’t for the stiff movements with how the rogue moved or her grey, wrinkled, hollow face that Evelyn found most disturbing, but her blue gaze, burning with hatred and pain.

When Dorian explained the situation the redhead just shook her head, pointing a finger at them with anger showing in her features. 

“Enough.” She nearly shouted. “This is all pretend to you, some future you hope will never exists. I suffered, the whole world suffered. It was real.” She said, biting into every word with bared teeth before turning and not sparring them another glance again.

After, when Evelyn retrieved the amulet from Alexius’ body, the sky roared and the red haired woman watched the young mage with panic in her eyes, gripping her forearm tightly. She talked about an Elder One eyeing Evelyn’s friends, some sort of agreement going on in their minds before Cassandra spoke, telling her how they would hold the entrance from the enemy to give the two mages time.

“I won’t let you commit suicide!” Evelyn screamed, already reaching the staff on her back but the hooded woman stopped her, her hands gripping the mage wrists with a gentler hold.

“Look at us. We are already dead.” The rogue stated with no emotion in her voice, an empty frase that passed trough her lips as if she said it countless time before. “The only way we’ll live is if this day never comes.” She gave Evelyn’s wrists a little squeeze before releasing her hold, taking a step back toward Cassandra and Varric and nodding at them. The hooded woman looked at the young mage again then, her blue eyes flicking with something for a moment before returning to the previous dullness. 

“Cast your spell.” The red head said, walking back but never leaving her eyes. “You have as much time as I have arrows.” 

She gave Evelyn a last nod before turning and grabbing her bow, helping her companions closing the doors after they exited. 

Evelyn could only stare as Dorian dragged her back before he begun to work on the amulet, speaking a language she didn’t understand, blue and green light emanating from his fingertips. There was a loud bang - high pitch shrieks, a few shouts, an unnerving silence - before the doors bursted open and the room was filled with demons, the bloody corpses of Varric and Cassandra lying on the ground. 

Evelyn felt a sickness spread in her stomach, tiny blades poking her insides and making the bile rise in her throat as she watched the two unmoving bodies. But then something - the sound of arrows piercing the air, the Chant of Light pronounced by an unwavering voice - made Evelyn look at woman who was striking the enemies down with precision and determination in every shot, arms almost moving alone in the rapid motions. 

The young mage focused on the enormous quantity of demons approaching, her legs already beginning to sprint forward - to help the other woman, to _save_ her - but Dorian held her by shoulder with a bruising grasp. The Tevinter shouted something then - sweat tickling down heated cheeks, dark furrowed brows and severe eyes - but Evelyn mind didn’t register his words, the magic buzzing in her head too uncontrolled to even think about something else. The hooded woman continued to fight even when a shadow reached her, using her bow as a melee weapon and dodging its claws swiftly before another one grabbed her and she couldn’t free herself, couldn’t defend herself, couldn’t move. 

The rogue looked at Evelyn - her blue gaze searching the mage’s grey one, the same glint of before as their eyes met - before a creature lowered its arm onto her mailed chest. 

Evelyn screamed at the top of her lungs before a blinding blue light engulfed her.

When the light cleared the young mage was in the same room but in a different time, Varric and Cassandra there, breathing and alive like she was_._

Alexius fell on his knees before Evelyn, a defeated look on his face that didn’t change even when the grey-eyed woman unclasped the dagger from her belt and held it against his throat. The magister looked at her - an empty gaze that held nothing - and Evelyn could only think about what this man had caused, what he broke for his selfish purposes, what he took from the world and from her.

“Evelyn.” 

A hand touched softly the young mage shoulder, not trying to stop her but not to encourage her either. 

“It’s over.” 

Evelyn tighten her hold on the dagger. 

The hand gave a little squeeze. 

“It’s over.”

Staring at this man, the shining in his eyes and the pain in his features - the same one of when he saw his son die - suddenly made Evelyn realize how, no matter what, he was already dead and she - her friends, the world, _Leliana -_ were not. 

She released her hold on the Venatori and put away her dagger. 

Evelyn was turned around by two strong hands then, and she was left face to face with Dorian. He gave her a once over - a silent concern in his eyes, in his grimacing mouth, in his warm hold on her shoulders, in his almost whispered “Do you need a moment?” - but the silence that had spread in the marble walls since the two mages returned was shattered. The heavy doors of the room opened and then both the King and Queen of Ferelden barged in with half of the soldiers of the Denerim’s Army.

Fiona emerged too and then all hell broke loose - shouts, accuses, demands were thrown and a pounding made its way into Evelyn’s temples, worsening ever so slowly and reaching the point were it was the only thing she felt. 

/

From there Evelyn only remembered how she allied with the mages previously enslaved and her journey back to Haven with them. For the entire trip one of her hands held on tight the dagger that the spymaster gave her - a crutch for her racing thoughts - and the other one shook constantly for the images that kept repeating in her mind (_a blue gaze, a flock of red hair and the crimson blood flowing on the floor, a blue gaze, a flock of red hair and the crimson blood flowing on the floor, a blue gaze..._).

When Evelyn first saw the unfocused lights of the village she sprinted on the iced path, the snow almost hurting her cheeks like sharp needles in her race. 

As the young mage reached the training area outside the gates, she dismounted from her black stallion in a rush and run toward the chantry - she needed to know, to see if the red head was like when left, she had to placate the drifting images that wouldn’t leave her head. 

Immediately after she arrived at the other woman’s tend Evelyn sucked in a breath: there was nothing, just a light breeze flapping the openings and a few reports on her wooden desk. She felt a sort of irrational panic spread in her body, in her mind - a new fear, stealing her breath away in its suddenness. 

“Herald.” 

Evelyn spun around, her vision turning black for a moment - the whiplash making her legs shake - and she finally saw the red haired woman, the curious look in her eyes and the report in her hand. 

“Leliana.”

Evelyn openly stared at her - a pale face shining in the moonlight, a few strands of hair escaping from under the purple hood, leather-gloved hands, long lashes catching the falling snow briefly before melting it - and it was like somebody pulled the string of tension that was keeping her together. Evelyn felt her legs buckle under her weight and barely saw how the spymaster dropped the report she was reading and caught her limp body by the waist - the woman’s arms so strong yet so lithe.

“Herald, what is happening? Are you hurt?” 

There was something in the rogue tone so much similar to worry, her voice setting a warm feeling in the young mage chest yet again.

Evelyn looked into her eyes, into _Leliana’s_ eyes - so blue and vibrant and so very much alive. 

“You should call me Evelyn.” She managed to said before darkness overtook her. 

/

The next few days were spent preparing for closing the Breach and gathering enough lyrium for the mages they had. With all that magic around most of her companions were extremely jumpy, almost unbearable: Vivienne barely acknowledged her since she heard how she didn’t conscript their allies, Bull and Cullen were always with their weapon in tow and Cassandra sent her an exasperated look every time someone came to her to complain, but in the end they all managed to coexist. 

When the time came Evelyn rode beside Solas, staying the back rows with the other mages around them as Cassandra guided them all toward the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

The young mage glanced at her hand from time to time, the green slash there pulsing more and more the closer she got to the Breach. Her mind wouldn't stop making up questions, doubts she almost forgot about creeping back.

Evelyn instinctively hold onto the blade on her belt, the action somewhat calming her thoughts, but she didn’t miss the curious look that Solas gave her.

“Should I worry that you always seem to hold onto that dagger when you are in a troubled state?” He asked, or maybe joked - it was always hard for her to tell. 

“Please, I barely even use it. It just for the comfort it brings, I guess.” The younger mage responded with honesty, looking then at the weapon. Its cover presented a few scratches that weren’t there in the beginning, probably caused by all the times her Ostrwich Circle ring brushed the leather in those weeks - it was an action she didn’t even remember starting in the first place, but one she couldn’t refrain doing those days. 

“It is most strange.” The elf said after a while, when they were approaching what was left of the holy ground. “I recall seeing a similar one on the hip of our spymaster the other day, but perhaps I’m wrong.” 

They both dismounted from their horses and Solas threw Evelyn a somewhat knowing look as they retrieved their staffs from the sides of the two animals - it felt like he had spoken out loud some kind of secret that Evelyn didn’t know the meaning of. She could only stare at the elf mage with furrowed eyebrows before throwing a glance in the direction of where Cassandra and the red headed woman were - ahead of them and positioning their allies.

“You are not.” 

They didn’t speak about it anymore after.

/

As Evelyn felt the air in Haven filling with cheerful laughters and songs, she found herself smiling. Women and men where dancing without a care in the world, celebrating how she sealed once and for all the Breach. The sky was still scarred and there were still a tremendous amount of rifts to close, but it was like they all breathed for the first time since that caos started. 

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” 

Evelyn jumped out of her skin and her hand flung to the weapon at her hip before turning around. A purple-hooded rogue stood in the snow a few steps behind, hand clasped behind her back and a blue gaze searching a grey one for a moment.

“Spymaster.” The mage acknowledge the woman shorty. Leliana eyes flicked briefly on the younger woman hip before coming to stand beside her, the few steps she took barely leaving a sign on the fresh snow. Evelyn gaze lingered for a moment longer on the rogue feature - the sharp cheekbones, a hint of freckles she didn’t notice earlier - and once again she stared unconsciously.

“I read the report you wrote on what happened in Redcliffe but I couldn’t find you to discuss it.” The woman said after a while, glancing at her. 

Evelyn refrained herself to aver her eyes from the those blue ones. She knew she had avoided the spymaster in the previous days, thought about it as an easier way to deal with what happened - the future mostly, the part where she fainted in the woman’s arms too. She should have know that Leliana would have caught on that pretty quickly though.

“What do you wanted to discuss?” The mage asked, looking back.

“I had the feeling it lacked something, a missing part of what happened to complete the puzzle as why you were so extremely shaken.” Leliana answered slowly, another question in her eyes. 

_What happened? _

Evelyn sighed, images she tried to forget pestering her mind behind her eyelids for a moment before she refocused on the spymaster. She wanted the truth and Evelyn surely wasn’t the one to deny her right to know.

“Back there, in that horrendous future, I saw you die. You sacrificed yourself to buy us time for returning to the present.” The mage said with her body and voice stiffening. 

“Of course I did.” Leliana responded easily. 

“One small life in exchange for a second change at history. I always loved a bargain.” She joked - half a smile playing on pink lips, blue eyes never leaving hers- and Evelyn couldn’t even think about laughing when she still felt a lump rising in her throat for her visions.

“Your life is not small nor unimportant. Do not give yourself up so easily. You are so much more than a body to sacrifice for the greater good.” Evelyn declared. It was upsetting - how much that woman was so very brave and selfless but so careless and so utterly _absorbed_ into the idea of giving her life away.

The red head furrowed her brows, a confused expression setting on her face as she watched the elementarist.

“I would do it again if I had to. I am not that selfish to...”

“Well I ask you to be.” The mage interrupted - grey eyes setting ablaze with emotions for a second before they were closed. Evelyn felt her magic tingling in the back of her head, searching for a release, so she forced to take a deep breath as she still sensed her palms heating up with unleashed fire. She hated how her calm demeanor shattered so easily every time she was faced with something that regarded the spymaster - all the days, months, _years_ she spent training to keep her magic under control vanishing in a moment with a phrase, a look, a touch. She sighed.

“Do not to do that again if given the chance. I just... “ _Couldn’t bear it for a second time._

“Just don’t.” She concluded, looking again in the blue gaze of the other woman. 

“Please.” 

Leliana stared at her grey eyes for a long time, giving no sign of listen to her plea nor to refuse the idea of it, so Evelyn saw that as a win.

“I must apologize, Herald.” The red headed spoke after a while, breaking the tense silence that has stretched between them as she looked away. 

Evelyn looked at the rogue frowning. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

The hooded woman exalted a breath then, a hot puff of air dissipating in the cold night. She threw a glance at the mage, unclasping her hands from behind her back. 

“I didn’t thought to see this day, the sky closed again and the people cheering.” She explained, casting her eyes on Evelyn’s right hand, the one where the Mark was always emanating a soft green light. Evelyn briefly stared at it too before hiding her fist, covering that ugly slash that always managed to make her feel sick if she thought about what it carried (so many hopes, so much responsibilities) for too long.

“So you didn’t believe in the Inquisition?” The mage asked. The y_ou didn’t believe in me_ was left unsaid but hung in there nonetheless, making the air heavy and Evelyn’s stomach too. The red head shook her head, a few hairs escaping from under the hood and covering her cheeks.

“I thought that no one could seal that tear. My faith in that hope was shaken, as in many others.” Leliana said - voice and gaze wavering for a moment. 

“But you did it in the end. And I am sorry for doubting, for not believing.”

_For not believing in you._

“I won’t do that mistake again. You have my word.”

And her blue eyes managed to look so warm through their icy color that Evelyn felt a flicker, an aching _tenderness_ spread into her body - a heat that coddled her heart and muted her thoughts like a mother’s lullaby. Leliana gave her a small smile - dimples and a few lines around her mouth - and Evelyn couldn’t do anything except smile back.

/

Later, when Haven was painted crimson and reeked of copper and leather and dust, Evelyn faced their enemy alone. 

As she was tossed around like a rag doll, her blood soaking the snow like red on a white canvas, she selfishly pondered the idea of dying there. The dagger pressing on her hipbone was presenting as Death itself, asking to be sank into her own heart to stop all the pain of broken bones and open wounds she felt.

The young woman craved that sweet offer until a burning arrow pierced the night sky.

Evelyn thought about small smiles and blue eyes.

She decided to keep on living.


End file.
